Kendall would kill Sydney if he found out that she was meeting this contact without his permission. He was her handler when she was Julia Thorne, and as such all missions were to go through him. That was their safety net, so as not to let the CIA know that she was alive. If one of her missions was somehow involved with one of theirs, Kendall was there to run interference.
But Sydney couldn't let an opportunity like this pass. This contact said that he had information on Sydney Bristow's disappearance, information that had to do with Arvin Sloane. God she would love to see that man pay for what he'd done to her. Apparently this contact had worked with Sloane in the past, and not surprisingly was more than willing to sell him out.
So here she was sitting outside at a little café in Italy waiting for this informant. Sure it was dangerous. She couldn't let the Covenant know that she was pursuing leads on Sydney Bristow's disappearance. That would blow her cover. She also couldn't tell Kendall because he would find some way of talking her out of this. It was odd, but after working with him over these past few months, they had become friends. She could talk to him now. She saw him as a person rather than a pompous boss. She'd been waiting for ten minutes now. But that wasn't surprising as she'd arrived early to scout out the area.
Sydney sipped at her cup of tea as she waited. How had she ever let her life become so complicated? She had left her friends, her family, and even her lover behind for this. What would they say to her when they found out about this? Would they hate her? Maybe they had already moved on. After all to them she was dead. Dust in the wind. Had they forgotten her? This was not the time to think about this. She had to prepare herself for this meeting.
"Miss Thorne I presume?" Asked a British voice from behind her. Not just any old voice. How the hell could Sark be her contact? The last time she saw him he was in CIA custody. Surely they didn't let him go. And they must have learned from her mother not to let him escape. Perhaps he was working with them. In that case this would blow her cover.
"Who wants to know?" She asked with a Russian accent hoping to throw him off.
He walked around to get a look at this lady but she turned her face, which was covered with sunglasses and long blonde hair.
"My name is Mr. Sark. The one you arranged this meeting with." He replied.
"Yes I'm sorry. That was a mistake," She said getting up. She began to walk away hoping that he would just give up. Unfortunately she had intrigued him and he followed her away from the café.
Her voice sounded so familiar to him. Sark knew that he'd heard it before. If only he could get a look at her face. The CIA could track him by satellite anyways so he was safe to pursue this woman.
She walked very quickly hoping to give him a hint, but Sark was far too sure of himself to be blown off so easily. He quickly caught up to her grabbing her arm, whipping her around to face him. Her sunglasses flew off, leaving her face to face with Sark.
"Good Lord. It couldn't possibly be you," He whispered, mainly to himself.
Sydney knew that she was in trouble. Her spy training kicked in. She shook him off and ran. He took off right after her, keeping up rather well considering his long time in custody.
The chase was on. Sydney wove in and out of street vendors, and angry people, around corners and across busy streets hoping to shake him. No such luck. Sark was as good as ever. She finally turned the corner and found herself facing a dead end. She quickly turned around, but Sark was already behind her, trapping her in this deserted ally way.
"Miss Bristow. What a pleasant surprise running into you here," He said with another one of his ever growing smirks.
So he hasn't lost his sense of humor Sydney noted.
"Or perhaps I should call you Julia Thorne. After all I've heard such thrilling tales of you. An assassin if my sources are correct. But then again, the Sydney I knew would never allow herself to murder a man in cold blood. Which begs the question, what have you been up to?"
She didn't answer him right away. She just stared into those bright blue eyes. It was good to finally see someone familiar, someone from her life as Sydney Bristow. As she turned these thoughts over in her mind, Sark took the chance to really look at her. She was still as gorgeous as ever, but far to skinny.
She finally shook herself out of her thoughts. Choosing hier words carefully in case the CIA was listening in she asked,
"Are you here alone?"
"You mean is the CIA listening in? No but they are tracking me via Satellite."
"So they trust you enough to let you out. Had to have given them something big to have arranged that."
"The CIA and I agreed to look into your death together," he replied, eager to hear her response.
"And what exactly do you get out of this?"
"Fresh air, a chance to stretch my legs, and apparently time to chat with an old friend,"
"An old friend huh? So then Sark if we're old friends you wouldn't mind doing me a favor." She asked.
"What could you possibly want from me?"
"Don't tell the CIA that I'm alive."
Sark was completely confused. What possible reason could she have for running from the CIA? After all, she'd practically dedicated her life to those imbeciles.
"You know Sydney, my agreement with your," he had to word this correctly. "Former employer is very stringent. Am I to assume that you want me to risk my life to keep your secret from your," another pause. "Your father, your friends. Your Agent Vaughn?"
"Look Sark…" she began, but was interrupted by the nagging ringing of her cell phone. She dug it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. Apparently she didn't like this interruption because she rolled her eyes as she rudely answered.
"What?...What problems?...I warned you that they would send someone…No. The CIA won't risk leaving it out in the open…I'll expect to hear from you within the hour." She hung up.
Interesting thought Sark. She's working against the CIA.
"You know Sydney it's uncanny how much you remind me of your mother these days. She always managed to threaten people while remaining perfectly calm."
"How nice for her," Sydney said bitterly. By now Sark was standing a mere arm length away from her. She took a step back only to have him repeat the gesture, closing the distance again. "Are you going to tell the CIA about me?"
"Miss Bristow, as much as I would love to help you here, the sooner I help the CIA locate you, the sooner I get out of custody."
"That's what I thought" She said as she swung her fist at him, hitting him squarely in the jaw.
He reacted quickly ducking her next punch and delivering one of his own into her cheek. They fought back and fourth, neither one really gaining the upper hand. After awhile Sydney was bleeding from her forehead and cheek with bruises all over her face, arms, and body. Sark had a cut on his arm and his nose was bleeding. His body wasn't faring to much better, seeing as how he was equally covered in bruises.
"Do you really plan to beat me up until I agree to keep this from the CIA?" He asked, sounding out of breath.
"No I just plan to beat you for the fun of it!" She yelled, kicking him in the stomach.
"See now, you haven't really changed at all so why are you hiding?"
"I don't remember you talking this much!"
"Think about me often, do you?" He said as he kicked her in the back sending her face first straight into the concrete wall.
"Ah," she grunted from the impact of her head hitting stone. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm bringing it behind her back, putting his other arm across the back of her neck succeeding in holding her in her place. She struggled for a moment, but her attempts were futile, as each time she moved it shot pain up her arm.
"Sydney, are you going to tell me why you're hiding from the CIA, or shall I just take you in and allow them to interrogate you themselves?"
"You are such a Bastard," she yelled as her phone rang again.
"You certainly are popular tonight." He reached down into her pocket slowly grazing the front of her thigh and grabbed her phone. "Mr. Cvechnik is calling"
Sark opened the phone and held it up to her ear, keeping hold of her arm and pushing her harder into the wall.
"Hello sir…No the mission went well…yes I took care of him, he won't be talking to anyone…No sir…I understand"
Sark closed the phone, put it into his pocket, and replaced his arm over her neck.
"Why is it that you're so willing to talk to all these other people, but you've only managed to insult me?"
He pulled a syringe from his pocket and stuck it into the back of her thight as she started to answer him.
"Because you're wyaa… What the hell was that?" Sydney demanded.
"Sedative. Goodnight Agent Bristow," He whispered into her ear as she was pulled into a deep sleep in his arms.